


Professionalism for the Bored Telepath

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Number The Stars [12]
Category: Numb3rs, Stargate Atlantis, Thoughtcrimes (2003)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6377254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the comment_fic prompt: Thoughtcrimes/Stargate Atlantis(/any), Freya McAllister +/ John Sheppard, telepath + boring meeting = creative entertainment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Professionalism for the Bored Telepath

The meeting was boring as hell. Zelenka had been going on for twenty minutes straight about the mini peer-review process all scientific work had to go through before it was sent to the chief officers for consideration of further pursuit by a gate team. Freya glanced at Brendan, sitting across the conference table from her, and peeked at his mind. Bastard was singing the Scooby Doo theme yet again.  
  
And then an image of Zelenka wearing nothing but heart-patterned boxers, clown shoes, and a clown nose flashed in Brendan’s mind, and Freya reared back in shock.  
  
The corner of Brendan’s mouth curved up ever so slightly for the merest moment, and then he was the picture of rapt interest once more. Most of the scientists were listening, but they looked tired and bored. The soldiers had given up about three minutes in and were paying zero attention. Bates and Stackhouse were playing tic-tac-toe on a paper set discreetly between them on the table, and Ford was doodling in the margin of his own presentation notes, which would probably come back to bite him.  
  
Freya darted a glance at Brendan again, and this time Zelenka was dancing the mambo, shirtless and painted half blue like a football fan. She kicked Brendan in the ankle.  
  
The Scooby Doo theme came back.  
  
The procedures Zelenka was detailing were important for Freya, as she was a scientist first and a translator second. She was supposed to pay attention. But it was so hard to concentrate when his voice was so fast and so monotone.  
  
And then Zelenka said the magic words: “That about sums it up. Any questions?”  
  
Freya didn’t need to read the minds of anyone around her to know that they hoped there were none. She peeked at Brendan.  
  
_Anyone who asks that man a question will be busted down to KP for a month._  
  
Freya pasted the most angelic expression she could muster on her face and raised her hand.  
  
Zelenka pushed his glasses up his nose. “Yes, Dr. Ramanujan?”  
  
Freya cleared her throat. “About the back-up peer option. Is there any procedure by which we can nominate a back-up peer for the initial review?”  
  
Brendan cast her a look. _Traitor!_  
  
Zelenka pushed his glasses up his nose. “Under what circumstances would nominating a back-up peer for an initial review be necessary?”  
  
“If Kavanagh was supposed to be on the initial review for, say, Rodney’s work.” Freya didn’t need to be a mind-reader to know who the most volatile pair in the science department were.  
  
Kavanagh winced. Rodney looked thoughtful. Zelenka looked confused.  
  
“Kavanagh has the necessary skills to evaluate Rodney’s work,” Zelenka began.  
  
“That I do,” Kavanagh said quickly.  
  
“That’s debatable,” Rodney began.  
  
“Moving on,” Elizabeth said, “we’re on a schedule. Maybe the CSO and other science officers can take up Dr. Ramanujan’s inquiry later. Who’s next?”  
  
Ford looked ready to throw up, but he scrambled to his feet with his doodled-on notes and began his presentation on procedures for scientists to become certified on gate teams. He spoke a little too fast and fumbled with his notes, but he made it through the material fast enough to make up for how long Zelenka went over.  
  
At the end of it, he was breathing like he’d run a race, and he said, “Any questions?” He was panicking so loudly Freya could hear his thoughts without even trying.  
  
_Please don’t ask please no please don’t no no no -_  
  
The others were silent, hoping for the meeting to just move on.  
  
Freya glanced at Brendan, raised her eyebrows.  
  
He nodded, just the tiniest dip of his chin. _You’re on._

Freya studied Ford some more.  
  
_Okay,_ he thought. _If no one has any questions, I can sit down in three, two, one -_  
  
Freya nudged Brendan’s ankle.  
  
He raised his hand smoothly, expression calm and professional. “Lieutenant?”  
  
Ford swallowed hard. “Sir?”  
  
“What about scientists who’ve been previously field-rated on other than standard military-issue arms?” Brendan asked. “Is there any way they could be allowed to bypass some of the marksmanship training? If they can prove competence with the firearm of their choice.”  
  
Ford blinked. _Scientists can use weapons?_  
  
His train of thought was echoed around the room, except by Rodney, who thought, _What self-respecting scientist needs a weapon?_ and Elizabeth, who thought, _Of course Dr. Ramanujan can use a weapon._  
  
Ford recovered admirably, and Freya was a little disappointed, because she’d wanted to make the kid squirm a little more. “Assuming the weapon they’re field-rated with performs comparably to a military-issue weapon, sure.”  
  
Brendan smiled. “Excellent, Lieutenant. Thank you.”  
  
Ford practically ran back to his seat.  
  
Carson stood up to deliver his portion of the presentation, and Brendan began singing the Scooby Doo theme in his head all over again.  
  
Just to spite him, after the meeting, Freya passed by him humming _The Ride of the Valkyries._ Every time she passed him, for the rest of the day, she hummed the song.  
  
So he made sure to grin at the security cameras and sing the Scooby Doo theme every chance he had.  
  
The next time there was a boring meeting scheduled, Brendan caught her just outside the doors. “Stackhouse, Markham, and Bates plan on playing Awkward Phrase Bingo. Let’s beat them to it.”  
  
They settled themselves on the same side of the conference table, Freya’s notebook between them. She made a list of the awkward phrases the three soldiers had planned to work into their questions, and whenever each presenter opened up the floor for questions, she and Brendan took turns asking increasingly bizarre questions. All three soldiers looked terrified, as if they knew their commanding officer had found out what unprofessionalism they’d had planned and was calling them onto the carpet for it.  
  
Freya knew she and Brendan had taken their game to the max when Elizabeth cracked a smile and had to hide it behind taking a drink from her bottle of water.  
  
“So, next meeting?” Brendan asked.  
  
Freya smiled. “Stupid Cupid.”  
  
So at the next meeting, Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Who should tackle this project?”  
  
“Kavanagh and McKay for sure,” Freya said.


End file.
